Blood Of A God
by violetvapours
Summary: Each S.H.I.E.L.D. member had their reasons for joining, and vampire Sigyn was no different. She was not an Avenger, but a 'specialist consultant' as Coulson had put it; recruited solely for her ability to read memories in blood. OC Logyn
1. Part 1

**AN: Originally I wanted to write an Underworld crossover, but then Selene's character didn't fit my ideas, so I adapted her into a total reimagining of Sigyn (Goddess of Fidelity & Loki's wife in mythology).  
This was meant to be a oneshot set during _Avengers _but after finishing it I kept thinking of more, so there's a post-****_Avengers _**'part 2' to this.

* * *

Loki sat slyly surveying the band of freaks assembled in the bizarre airship on which he was held hostage. His languid gaze fell beside him to a sinuous woman clad in black, with raven hair that brushed her collarbone. He studied her closely for a few moments, until she turned her porcelain pale face to him.

'You're not mortal,' he remarked coolly. He wondered why the archer he now controlled had made no mention of her.

His insight was met with stony silence, her only response an upward quirk of one graceful brow.

'What _are_ you?' he enquired openly, disarmed with intrigue.

The woman lifted her eyes to his; an inhuman blue hue. Her plump lips parted, revealing sharp fangtips. 'Thirsty,' she spoke.

They immediately heard sharp intakes of breath from the Avengers, who tensed at her admission, clearly afraid of this thirst. She dropped her eyes, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

'For what?' Loki asked, needing to know of what the others were so wary.

'The blood of a god,' she purred indulgently, drawing closer and fixing him with a predatory stare. Loki felt a thrill of mingled fear and desire unexpectedly shoot through him.

'Alright, back off Sigyn.' Steve grasped her arm and tugged her away. Suddenly lightning flashed outside, sending a ripple of trepidation across Loki's face. 'What's the matter, scared of a little lightning?' Steve challenged him.

'I'm not overly fond of what follows,' the God of Mischief admitted.

* * *

She had to see him.

Loki's eyes snapped up as Sigyn approached his glass prison, his gaze appreciating the fluid grace of the vampire's movements.

'What have you come for, more questions?' he challenged icily.

Sigyn gently folded her arms. 'Just … sizing you up …' she breathed, her eyes wandering over him. The captive specimen sat with regal composure, his hollowed features set in an elegant scowl, with a cunning emerald glare that glinted with the energy of a coiled snake. She briefly wondered to herself from whence his well of malevolence flowed. At any rate, he would make a fine meal. Her finest.

The observation drew Loki's ire. She stood poised with feline calm, openly staring at him like a bug in a jar without any regard for his opinion. He rose to his feet, clasping his hands behind him. 'And what manner of dark creature are you?' he sneered as he drew menacingly close to the glass.

'Vampire,' she provided briskly, hoping to quell his curiosity.

'And you live on blood?'

'Mm.' She gave a nod.

'Exquisite,' he appraised with eyes roving over her. Her cheeks pinkened. She regretted feeding earlier, and cursed the irony of having come to inspect him and finding herself evaluated.

'Tell me, why do you concern yourself with the fate of these mortals?' Loki chastised.

'I don't,' Sigyn conceded. 'But I can't have you invading my hunting ground and enslaving my food supply. You're stepping on a lot of toes here,' she pointed out.

He cocked his head in consideration, and leant closer. 'Join me and I'll provide you all the sustenance you desire,' he offered smoothly. He may have need for a queen once he had conquered the planet, Loki deduced, and truthfully there were none so worthy on Midgard as this immortal.

Sigyn fought to suppress a shiver up her spine – at the offer of blood, or the tone of his silken silver tongue, she wasn't sure. 'No thanks – I prefer free range,' she declined.

His charming expression twisted at her rejection. 'Have you no ambition?' Loki drawled in disgusted tones. 'You would sooner stand with your _cattle_ than assume your mantle above them. Pathetic,' he spat. 'You'll dream of the power I offer when you're kneeling in the mud with all the rest.'

Sigyn shook her head calmly. 'You're mistaken. Your power will be mine soon enough,' she assured him with relish, then noted the resulting loss of colour in his face.

'What do you mean?' he hissed, disturbed by a feeling of uncertainty for a second time in this mysterious creature's company.

Her lips sealed into a smirk. She turned, and left him to ponder his fate.

'Come back!' he demanded, hammering his fist on the glass.

* * *

Banner brandished a needle. 'Say, mind if I take a sample of your blood?'

Her kin had analysed themselves to pieces already, but Sigyn indulged his curiosity and offered her forearm. 'It's not _my _blood,' she sniffed dryly with a shrug. Other than Coulson, the scientist had been the only one to come near her, and his openness was a welcome break from the others' wary glances. After a vial was filled the needle slid from her vein, the tiny wound closing instantly behind it.

'Thanks.'

Sigyn resumed her inspection of the sceptre, its blue glow illuminating her scowling gaze as she scrutinised its alien construction. Stark and Banner buzzed around her, exchanging technobabble as they crossed back and forth between an array of touchscreens while they worked on tracking the Tesseract's gamma signature. Their discussion turned again to speculation of Loki's intentions when Stark addressed her abruptly.

'Your vampire voodoo picked up on anything so far?'

Sigyn bristled but considered the factors at hand. Agent Romanoff had baited some information from their enemy; he intended to use the Hulk to destroy their airborne headquarters from the inside. As Rogers had pointed out, Loki could not lead an army from the helicarrier. Among the secrets Sigyn was tasked with recovering by Fury – the operation of the sceptre and the location of the cube – she wondered how he planned to provoke Banner and escape unscathed.

'I'll know the answers soon enough,' she vowed.

Banner's brow creased with concern. 'Are you certain the bite won't infect him?'

'He's a god, I'm sure he's impervious to a trifling curse such as mine,' she assured him.

'– Curse?' Thor entered the lab. 'On this world immortality is a curse? You've found yourself in the wrong realm, sister,' he chuckled. 'You should return to Asgard with me when this is over.'

Sigyn flashed a fanged smile. 'I'm not sure the Asgardians would approve of my appetite.'

She was not an Avenger, but a 'specialist consultant' as Coulson had put it; recruited solely for her ability to read memories in blood. Indeed, the only reason she agreed to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s request was on the proviso that she could taste the rarest of bloods: that of a Norse god. After three hundred years Sigyn had something of a predilection for sampling every sanguine cocktail that appeared on her menu. Along with her prey's memories, she would temporarily be infused with their potency. She would never be more powerful than with blood such as Loki's coursing through her veins. Her coven may frown upon her involvement in human matters but not even the elders knew the power of a god.

Her mouth watered in anticipation.

* * *

Flanked by armed soldiers, Sigyn crossed the threshold of Loki's prison. His hands were restrained behind him. His expression was smug, touched with mild curiosity as to what futile tortures they were to attempt on him.

She glanced at Fury. 'Do your thing,' he shrugged with an edge of distaste.

Pursing her lips with irritation, Sigyn rolled her shoulders, shrugging off her tailored velvet jacket, and pulled it down her arms behind her. She coldly cast the garment at Fury, who caught it awkwardly. Then she lifted her chin and met Loki's stare.

'Kneel.'

'What?' scoffed the god, bemused. 'I'm asked to kneel before a blood-sucking beas–'

A swift kick to the knee from an obliging soldier dropped him before her. 'What are you doing?' he demanded, arching back from her as she crouched.

'Don't struggle, it'll only hurt,' she coaxed breathlessly, her tone tender with bloodlust, as she slid close to him.

'N-no! What is this?' he yelled, turning to Fury. The soldiers raised their weapons as he grew enraged.

Fury stated the terms. 'If you don't comply consciously we'll make you comply unconsciously.'

Before he resisted further Sigyn darted forward and seized her prey, curling her fingers into Loki's hair and pulling his head aside to expose the arteries in his neck. He cried out in horror at the sting of her teeth in his skin.

She answered with mewl of ecstasy as his essence coated her tingling tongue. The taste was incredible, like feeding for the first time again. Soon her skin was burning with cold, godly power overflowing her form and leaking from her pores. Her body seemed to float as her strength soared beyond the constraints of gravity.

Loki caught a glimpse of her face before she was pulled off him. Her lips glistened with blood, her eyes ablaze with power and a look of pure animal satisfaction. She was monstrous. She was beautiful.

She was his enemy. And as he felt his own energy radiate from the goddess his blood had created, he was gripped by dread. But it was worse than he imagined.

'The memories,' Fury demanded of the vampire. 'What's he planning? _Where is the cube?_'

Bewildered, Loki gaped at Sigyn as her expression shifted. The buzzing in her mind rose to a crescendo of alien thoughts and feelings, and her eyes glazed over as she was possessed by Loki's memories. He watched her slump under the weight of another mind, dark hair spilling through pale fingers as her hands rose to clutch her temples as though they might burst.

Sigyn strained to locate Loki's plans, finding herself swept away by the stormy tides of his sorrow, loneliness, and anger. Her breath shuddered as pained voices echoed in her ears, feeling every word like a knife to her chest.

_Am I cursed? … Small for a giant's offspring ... Abandoned, suffering, left to die … Just another stolen relic … I'm the monster … No matter how much you love me … I only ever wanted to be your equal! ... Is it madness? Is it?_

Sigyn was vividly reminded of the family she had lost to her curse. Unageing, she had been driven away by their suspicion. From a distance she could only watch her nieces and nephews bloom and wither like her sisters before them, followed by their own children. It was a cruel blessing to be granted eternal life in a world of constant death. Often she was stung by jealousy of mortals, few of whom knew solitude such as hers. And Loki's.

Her eyes winced closed as her clinical composure slipped. She had glimpsed the lost prince cowering inside the villain's armour, whose mischief had turned to malice in light of betrayal. She saw that he was driven to murder the father who had abandoned him, and forsake the father who had stolen him. He was the son of none.

She gasped to find her heart stricken by his longing, and a tear coursed down her cheek. His plans did not concern her any more.

Observing the ill effects of Sigyn's possession by his demons, an unwelcome pang resonated in Loki's chest. Frowning, he grit his teeth against the lump rising in his throat. He was no longer an orphaned runt but a conquering king and all must see it. Her tears were a violation and a mockery.

'Where's – the – cube?!' Fury shouted in exasperation. 'Get her out of here,' he snapped, and a hand gripped her roughly.

Still flooded with emotion, Sigyn jerked away from the soldier's grasp. '_I'm not your puppet!_' she snarled, her fists curling as an echo of Loki's rage ignited in her.

The soldiers redirected their weapons to the vampire. The human closest to Loki fired a series of tranquilliser darts into her. Unaffected, she yanked them out of her flesh and lunged at the soldiers.

'Contain her!' Fury commanded, backing away. Loki began wriggling furiously against his bonds.

She engaged the other soldiers, swirling between them in a flurry of deft strikes from her fists and feet. They were disposed of easily, but not before riddling her with bullets.

As the last man slumped to the floor Loki glanced around to find that Fury had swiftly slipped out of the cell, securing the two of them inside. Immobilised by pain, Sigyn sank before him, gasping. Finally pulling his wrists free, Loki regarded her calculatingly, unsure of her motives. Just yesterday she had taunted and threatened him, then today wept and fought for him. He found himself edging toward her.

'What are you doing?' she breathed as he reached out and began unhooking the lower fastenings of her corset to inspect the damage beneath.

'Healing you,' he murmured briskly, and raised a hand over her punctured stomach.

'No – don't,' she protested. At his quizzical look, a masochistic smile touched her bloodstained lips. 'It's been at least f-fifty years since I've had a good dose of perspective … I'm healing, watch.'

Perspective from near-death? Loki wondered what good a brush with mortality could do for a god – only weaken them surely. 'What would you have me do?' he requested as her breathing slowed.

'… Just hold my hand …'

Her eyes fluttered closed. Her instruction was an act of sentiment, such a thing Loki now scorned. He glanced down her arm. Tentatively he touched a fingertip to her slender lifeless hand. So deadly moments ago, he found it now so delicate. She was unconscious; she wouldn't know, he bargained and rested his fingers atop her hand. After a minute, he heard air draw into her lungs and before he could hastily retract his hand, her fingers grasped it tightly as her eyes drifted open once again.

Sigyn shuddered and groaned as bullets slowly reversed their path to re-emerge from her body and roll onto the floor with a tinkle. Her muscles, knotted with pain, relaxed as her torn flesh sealed and faded, leaving the plane of her stomach pristine.

Loki stared, transfixed by the harrowing sight of her transformation from battered corpse to bloodless beauty. Then his eyes narrowed with suspicion. 'Why did you do this?' he asked, searching her face intently.

'I know you,' she whispered. '_I love you._'

A skilled liesmith, Loki knew deceit when it appeared. As he realised this was no trick, his brows rose in confusion. Sigyn had witnessed his ruthless actions and felt his darkest thoughts and here she lay claiming to love him knowing all that she knew.

He pulled his hand from hers with a slight flick, as though it were sullied. 'Alien words from a stranger,' he sniffed, guarding himself with cynicism. 'Who are you to invade the mind of a king with such foul sorcery?' he challenged her devotion.

Sigyn pulled herself up to him, inclining her head and drawing in close until her breath brushed his throat. He stiffened, conflicted.

'His queen,' she suggested, and her tongue swept his wound, savouring the last trace of blood that had leaked from it.

His eyes rolled back and slid closed as thundering footsteps carried down the corridor.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

* * *

Sigyn stood apart from the gathering, peering out through a slit in the thick cloak shielding her from the sun. She would not be included in the others' farewells.

She thought to take something with her, and bent to pluck a flower from its bed. She extended her hand, and flinched as her sleeve slipped back. But she felt no singe of searing pain, only soft warmth. Trembling with fear, she held her hand there, eyes widening in wonder to observe no smoke rise from her flesh.

Emitting a gasp, Sigyn pushed the hood back off her head. She turned her face to the sun, lifting her trembling hands before her. It had been three hundred years since the sun had touched her skin without charring it. Tears flooded her eyes.

Thor's mail shimmered at her side. 'Sigyn. I believed the cloak necessary for your safety,' he questioned with confusion.

'I need it no longer,' she rasped, staring in awe at her untarnished hands. 'Your brother has given me the sun.'

* * *

'Come to size me up again, thief?' greeted Loki tersely, eyes fixed upon two serpents slithering hypnotically at his feet. He hadn't seen her since arriving in Asgard, being occupied for weeks by exhaustive interrogations and trials in which he always remained reticent. Her whereabouts had crossed his mind more than once.

Sigyn approached the ensorcelled glass. The failed conqueror languished sullenly in his cell, shoulders bent with broken pride. Since returning to his homeworld the hollows of his cheeks had begun to fill, and his wild hair had been trimmed, restoring a more boyish appearance to the prince. Deep shadows still lingered beneath his eyes, but they were no longer lit with the influence of the Tesseract. He was very slender without his armour.

'Will I ever see you outside of a cell?' the vampire mused. He glanced up at her with a scowl. Loki would not rise to spar with her as he had on Midgard; his arrogant determination having reduced to seething resignation.

With a wave of his hand the conjurations vanished. 'You look like one of them now,' he noted neutrally as he eyed the Asgardian robe in which she was swathed; sheer emerald fabric accented with silver. Whom had chosen the colour for her?

'When in Rome …' Sigyn shrugged – the comment flew past him. She noticed his scrutiny move past her shoulders to where her hair now curled at her waist. 'I'm frozen in the form I was when I turned,' she explained. 'I hack it off for assignments but it doesn't last long.'

''Turned'?' he asked, eyes adjusting to the sorcerous maiden who now stood in place of the sleek creature he had encountered on Midgard.

'Mortals who survive the vampire's bite become vampires.'

His brows lifted in surprise. 'You were once mortal?'

A shadow passed over her face. 'Once upon a time. Loki, my power is dwindling. I need to feed.'

He could sense it, glowing faintly now like dying embers. She looked ashen, and he could make out a blue tinge upon her lips. He straightened. 'And what favour will _I_ receive in return for my donation?' he challenged, even as the hair stood on the back of his neck.

Slender fingers pressed against the glass as she drew closer. Her hunger for his memories almost matched her thirst for his blood. She wanted to feel the pain behind his snide remarks. '_Anything_,' she vowed softly. Her voice, honeyed with sincerity, took him by surprise.

Calculation stirred in his eyes. 'Guard!' he called. The clinking of armour carried down the corridor. 'Let her in,' he bid the heavily armoured figure who approached.

Sigyn was directed to an antechamber carved into the rock of the catacombs which housed Loki's prison. At the touch of the guard's fingertip to a crimson gemstone set in the wall it dissolved into a veil and vanished. He motioned her inside the chamber. 'Touch the gem to enter,' he instructed her, and the wall rematerialised between them, sealing her inside. Before her an identical wall awaited, with the fallen god beyond it.

She reached for the gem to banish the wall and stepped into his space, not failing to detect a slight tensing in his posture as she entered.

'So, name your price.'

'Silence,' Loki stated. 'You stole my memories and if you want blood from me you won't whore them out.'

She approached him. 'It doesn't have to be like last time,' she promised and reached for his hand; he submitted to the foreign contact. Lifting his wrist to her lips, she sank her fangs into his artery as gently as she could manage in spite of her thirst. He let out a hiss.

Within his blood Sigyn saw a stray prince beset with embarrassment and failure. He was raised in the shadow of a foolhardy oaf just to serve as a pawn in a tenuous scheme. Thor's reckless attack on Jotunheim had spoiled Odin's plans for Loki to be installed as ruler there. He had striven to please Odin by swiftly disabling the threat from Laufey, but his efforts had been rejected. The Chitauri had guaranteed him the opportunity to prove his worth on a throne, only to be defeated by a single weapon.

She relived his anxious anticipation of the Other's vengeance, for whom he had failed to provide the Tesseract ... She heard the royal family's endless questions, blazing with condemnation and betrayal … She felt the jolt of hope in his chest when he set eyes on her.

Sigyn released his hand and ran a delicate tongue around her lips, now flush with his blood. 'Thank you,' she expressed graciously. Her brows knitted as she digested his memories. 'You won't speak to them,' she observed. 'They didn't care for you enough to tell you what you needed to know as a child so you won't care to tell them what they want to know from you now.'

Loki stared, unsettled. Not Odin, nor Frigga, nor Thor could convince him to break his silence – but she did not have to ask a single question. He could trick and lie to anyone he wished but for Sigyn. There was nothing he could hide from her. He was utterly disarmed.

'Loki,' she appealed gently, 'you were abandoned. Don't you realise your fortune in having a family at all?'

His face broke into a mocking grimace. 'Did Thor script these words?' he sneered.

She dismissed his accusation with a sharp sigh, continuing, 'I should be so lucky; I watched my family die one by one – from a distance, because _I_ was one of the monsters they warned my sisters about at night.'

He looked at her intently for a moment. Then his mouth drew into a stern line, and he turned away. 'You have what you came for. Trouble me no longer.'

* * *

'The Court calls Sigyn of Midgard to the Chair.'

Trepidation struck the vampire as a booming voice addressed her. Steeling herself, she emerged from the whispering audience to cross the vast court room, her robe sweeping over the polished floor as she made her way to the marble chair positioned on a dais before the council. Hearing the crowd's discerning murmurs, she set her jaw and perched on the chair with elegant poise.

Frigga spoke. 'We understand that your particular method of sorcery has acquainted you with Prince Loki's memories?'

'In a manner of speaking,' Sigyn admitted dourly, and dropped her eyes as scornful glares skewered her from every angle of the court room.

'The Court requests that you testify to Prince Loki's motivations in his attempted conquest upon Midgard.'

'The memories are not mine to share.'

The expressions of the council members soured at her defiance. It seemed they had expected Sigyn to answer all of their questions on Loki's behalf. All pairs of eyes swept to Thor, who appeared strained. The Crown Prince leaned forward.

'I have granted you unrestricted access to Loki so that you may sustain yourself in exchange for the information you retrieve. We simply want to understand Loki's reasons for his actions, to judge if there might be a chance for rehabilitation,' he implored her.

Sigyn wanted nothing more than to help Loki and the royal family reach an understanding, but the prince was cunning and if she wanted to live here with him, she was bound to guard his memories like treasure. 'I'll not betray his confidence,' she asserted.

'Can you give us your _opinion_ then, on his state of mind?' pressed Frigga, exasperation rising in her voice.

Sigyn drew a steady breath. 'I think the Chitauri preyed on his vulnerability and ambition. The Tesseract was exerting some influence over him through the sceptre … it amplified his anger into blind hate, his spite into malevolence. I also think he had been driven from his home by a gross betrayal,' she added coldly, directing the comment to Odin. Then she stood. 'Will that be all?'

'That will be all, Sigyn of Midgard,' Odin dismissed brusquely.

'Wait.' Thor spoke against his father, halting her. 'The love of a good woman once cured me of my vanity and recklessness. Could you show Loki the error of his ways; use your knowledge of him to mend his madness?'

She hesitated, considering the gravity of Thor's request. Frigga gazed down at her expectantly, rapt with a renewed sense of hope for her adopted son.

'Any manipulation of Loki's values will be transparent to him. But I will love him,' Sigyn vowed.

* * *

Loki paced restlessly in his cell, pausing only to run a hand back through his tousled hair. A ghost of the Tesseract still corrupted his heart, leaving his thoughts volatile and vicious, and his confinement only further trapped him in his mind. His eyes narrowed in a seething glare as he heard the gate screech at the end of the corridor, and light footsteps echoed upon the stone floor. His only visitor was back for more blood.

She didn't have to feed on him. She could make a meal of anyone – Thor was the one to host her here – but Loki never said no. He cursed and cringed as she had her way with his veins but he couldn't say no. He knew that while she fed on him, as much as he was her prey she was his goddess, made with his power. He fulfilled her thirst every time to watch his essence take root inside of her, giving her life. Try as he might to threaten and bargain with her, Loki found that Sigyn wielded the power he held over her, over him. With Sigyn his mind was not his own. Today, this infuriated him.

She stood before him now, looking wan. 'Loki –'

'You need to feast on me again?' he snapped. 'Is this all I'm to become – a meal in a cage?'

'I'm sorry,' she said this time, her tone muted by guilt. He briefly sensed a change in her, all the sauntering assuredness she exuded on Midgard seemed to have vanished. It was pathetic.

Sigyn was suddenly thrust back as Loki reappeared in front of her, pinning her against the wall with his wrist turned against her face. '_Feed, you_ _pitiful creature,_' he snarled.

She gasped but gave no fight, irking him further. 'You don't need to tell me what I am,' she muttered. 'I'm well aware of my privilege in being here.'

'And have you enjoyed yourself in my stead?' growled Loki.

'No –'

'Seated at the royal table, drinking their wine, while I rot here –'

'No!' she choked, tears springing into her eyes. Her voice shook. 'I was paraded around as one of the spoils of victory on Mid– _Earth_, until the novelty wore off, and I was reduced to a barbaric parasite …'

Sigyn had found herself stranded between worlds. Thor had invited her to a place he thought she better belonged, but she found no warm welcome from the bronzed divinities of Asgard, who regarded her pallor and fangs with disdain.

'On Earth I was a demon among mortals, and here I'm a beast among gods, a leech dependent on your charity to live. I don't belong _anywhere_,' she wept bitterly.

He went still. Her words echoed his own inferiority growing up as a stolen outsider, only to learn that he had been a shameful runt to his real family. Loki stared down at her as she hung limply in his grip, all her raw weakness laid bare to him. His shoulders sagged. Sigyn was anything but his enemy. She was his only ally.

'Imagine a millennia of this,' he murmured, and his hand turned, to wipe one of her tear-stained cheeks with his thumb. Her eyes lifted to his.

'I don't need to imagine – I _know_,' whispered Sigyn, fangtips grazing her purple lip as she spoke.

Loki found himself struggling to hold her all-consuming gaze, his eyes strained by a deep uncertainty. She was luring him into a perilous abyss. He glanced away. 'I can't love you,' he stated plainly, his voice cracking.

'Are you above it?' she questioned. '… Or beneath it?'

Loki hesitated to answer. Which was it really?

'Well I think you need it.'

As Loki opened his mouth to debate Sigyn stretched up and sealed his lips with a feather-soft kiss. His heart lurched painfully in his cold chest, paralysing him. Whatever resistance to her wiles he had left crumbled at her touch, and he pressed against her mouth with a tortured sigh. The toxin that flooded his mind ebbed, releasing its grip as he surrendered to her bittersweet indulgence.

He moved from her lips and trailed breathless kisses across her cheek and down her neck. 'Feed, Sigyn,' he bid her tenderly, inviting her fangs to his throat. She drank deeply, leaving him giddy. 'I'll make you a queen,' he gasped. 'I swear it.'


End file.
